We sat outside of Chris's giant trailer, the golden dusk light bouncing off of every surface, sending dazzling strips of sun all around, the world turning into a yellow haze. My dark and light blue striped tank and red swim trunks were sticking lazily around me thanks to the sudden heat and humidity. The coke I was drinking had beads of condensation rolling down its glass sides, dripping to the asphalt with an almost audible hiss.

I looked over at Chris through my signature pink glasses. His bright white t-shirt clung to his body, highlighting every muscle, every curve. The bright blue Hawaiian trunks he was wearing were (thankfully) looser. The light was playing tricks with his perfectly styled hair, changing it to a brilliant blonde, and then to a dazzling bronze. I self-consciously pat the top of my head, squishing down my crazily curled hair, gell-less at Chris's request. I found my eyes slowly going over his body, his long legs ending in a set of toes, wiggling in his yellow Wal-Mart flip flops along to the music I had forgotten was playing from the small radio sitting on the table between our lawn chairs. His delicate eyelids are closed, a small smile playing at his perfectly kissable lips. The open issue of vogue in his lap flutters with the occasional passing breeze. His skin has become sort of mesmerizing shade of dazzling yellow, the light hitting the shadows and light spots of his skin perfectly.

And you're not gay, Darren?

Chris let out a content sigh, bringing me out of (and pulling me deeper into) the perverted fantasies I was having.

"Why is it so hot?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know." I looked down quickly into the cellphone on my lap, a blush starting up my neck.

He smirked, turning to face me, "What are you blushing at?"

"Nothing," I said, maybe a little too quickly. "I'm just hot."

Chris giggled, sending butterflies into my throat. "Gloat much, do we Darren?"

"Shut up, I didn't mean it like that." Or did i?

"Whatever, are we still on for tonight?" he flipped nonchalantly through the magazine, passing pages of stick thin models in lingerie, rolling his eyes. Only Chris could roll his eyes at half naked super models.

Are you sure about that Darren?

I shook my head trying to clear it, "Yeah, theres no way I would miss out on a Harry Potter marathon, especially if my best buddy was coming."

"Right, buddy." He gave me a sarcastic thumbs-up and rolled his eyes. Why was that so hot?

Do I really have to explain this to you Darren?

Shut up! I mentally glared at whatever voice kept doing that.

"Darren?" Chris raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Hmm? Sorry, lost in thought I guess." I didn't add the "about you" part.

"Okay, cause you looked like you were about to go psycho on your coke bottle." He laughed, the sound swirling through the air, causing a smile to instantly appear on my face. I could get used to that sound.

You could probably get used to him making other sounds to….

I choked on the drink of coke I had in my mouth, coughing, sending a spray of the sugary, brown liquid right onto Chris.

"DARREN!" the gorgeous boy began wiping has hands frantically on the chair.

"God, sorry!" I leapt up, sending my lawn chair skidding back two inches. I took of my shirt instinctively, and began dapping up Chris's sticky body, brushing my fingers against his neck for just a little longer than I should have. I stopped when I saw the shocked expression etched across his flawless face.

"Chris?"

His bright azure eyes slid across my now bare chest, sending a swarm of little butterflies flittering into my stomach. The look on his face slowly changed from shocked (which looked positively adorable on him) to something…dark…seductive…and incredibly sexy.

"Chris?" my voice was strained, coming out in a sort of croak.

He looked up at me, his face instantly turning a bright shade of red, "Oh yeah, I, uh, I have to go, uh, yeah." He stood up flustered, dropping his magazine onto the ground. His blush deepened as he bent over to pick it up, sticking his (very attractive) butt in just the wrong place on my body.

Well, wouldn't it be just the right place?

I gasped, and stepped back, my coke bottle dropping to the ground with a shatter amplified by the silence. Brown sticky liquid sprayed around my ankles. Chris stiffened and jumped up, dropping the magazine again, its pages fluttering to the pavement. He whipped around to face me, his face a brilliant shade of red, a dot of Coke still resting on his forehead. He mumbled something incoherent, and hurried off, his face in his hands.

I stood there, the parts of my body still tingling from where he had backed into me. I kept replaying the images back in my mind again and again. Each time feeling a new level of nervous-ness, mixed with complete exhilaration. The realization hit me, causing me to gasp loudly.

Chris liked me, and I was pretty sure I liked him too.